


Left Turn

by thedevilchicken



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:40:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6195472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dexter almost wishes he could feel regret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Left Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal on 28 June 2013 (as a prompt fill for Dexter AUs). 
> 
> A "Dexter without Harry's Code" AU.

Dexter washes his face in the morning. 

It's the first thing he does, before anything else, before pulling on his clothes or heading to the head. He washes his face and he looks at himself in the mirror above the washbasin. His eyes have never really seemed alive per se but they've seemed almost dead for months, he thinks, flat like there's nothing inside him at all. Dexter's in there, of course, and his Dark Passenger has yet to jump ship and swim for shore, all the old urges remain, but even the glimmer of a hint of a spark that he used to see there has faded away. He hasn't killed in months. If he ever felt feelings he'd be feeling them now; he'd be feeling frustration. 

He washes his face and he dries his face and he goes down to breakfast. 

They're scared of him there. They try to pretend that they're not but they are - they all know what he did 'cause they saw it splashed all over TV, for weeks on end. He was on all of the news shows for so many months, the newspapers printed each gory detail they could persuade a cop to leak, and if he knew how to be sorry he'd be sorry Deb ever went through that. It was almost a relief at the time, he thinks, being found, being able to drop the awkward pantomime humanity Harry said he had to have in order to survive, and then just be Dexter. It devastated Deb. She'd thought she knew him; she'd known what he'd let her know.

He wasn't worried - he'd always assumed he'd be caught in the end if the cops didn't shoot him, because he couldn't quite stop himself and frankly he'd never want to. The Coastguards caught him in the boat with a dismembered body all sealed up in plastic. He killed his first lawyer with an uncapped fountain pen the idiot left on the desk; he was washing the blood off his face when the guards blustered in to lock him back up. Deb didn't hire him another attorney and the public defender kept him chained to the desk after that. He'd still be killing now if he could - if they let him go right now, right this instant, he'd slash the guard's throat on his way out the door. 

He supposes by most standards he really has issues: Harry knew, of course, if no one else did. He just pretended he didn't for the longest time and when he finally tried to help, when he finally tried to teach him, they didn't get past "don't let them know you're different" before he was shot dead in the head in the line of duty. Sometimes Dexter wonders what it was Harry wanted him to know. He wondered if it was important.

Deb doesn't come to visit. He knows the name of the emotion she felt when he saw her the day that they sentenced him to death. It wasn't shame or anger or betrayal and it wasn't even guilt; she'd gone through each of those in cycles in the months after his arrest. Across the courtroom, she looked at him and he looked at her and she was horrified. He doesn't think she'll be there the day that they kill him. 

Dexter washes his face in the morning and sometimes almost wishes he could feel regret. But it's morning, it's time to eat, and mostly he just feels hungry.


End file.
